Golden Eyes
by DuHSPaZZiNGFeL
Summary: Alphonse always remembered his older brother, and there wasn't a day that he ever forgot him. But his son had always asked why he said some of the things he did, after all, he had never known the first Edward Elric, or why his words seemed so great.


**AN: This plot has been running up and down my mind for weeks, so I absolutely had to get it out. This was originally going to be under "Keep Moving Forward", but the plot looked a little too long to be under that, and I wanted it to stand alone. **

**WARNING: A slight spoiler to what happens to Pride in the recent chapter of the manga (106). I kind of wrote it vaguely though, so it might not be clear enough for you to completely figure out what.**

**Golden Eyes**

The emerald hills of a summer in Resembool were an invigorating sight to behold. Those who dwelled in the hustle and bustle in the streets of Central or in East City all their lives couldn't possibly imagine the exact magnificence of a land such as this. The sky was wide open, like a pure sheet of twinkling clouds and the anticipation of a summer's rain tickling at the tips of your fingers. And, somehow, the wonderful gray that the horizon was only seemed to match those eyes of a grown man sitting contently near his son.

But maybe "content" wasn't the right word. After all, the two figures upon the rolling hill had just arrived back from the funeral of old Granny Pinako and as if the father was not devastated enough, the young boy next to him surely was. For, it seemed, today was such a mocking day. Nature did not bother to sympathize.

"Ed? I want you to remember something for me," the father said, not daring to shed even a wink of a tear. It was a known fact that a man such as himself did _not _cry, and he was willing to keep it that way, if not only for the sake of his child.

The kid was small for his age, usually a confident and brash eight-year-old in the face of adults and his peers alike. His parents took absolute pride in the intelligence he was seen to behold in the classroom, and he had an uncanny appetite for almost any type of food, except, of course, the dreaded milk. ("Calves drink that stuff, not grown _human _men!") In the end, Ed reminded a lot of people of someone in the past.

The boy fidgeted tremendously, not quite used to all the tension that he could clearly feel in the air. Then, finally —"What is it, Dad?"

"You have two legs," the man said in almost a hushed, but firm tenor, "You can get up and use them, and the only thing anyone can do is to keep moving forward."

Ed had heard words of wisdom similar to these before. But sometimes he didn't understand exactly where they came from, or _why _his parents apparently enjoyed their slur and the tingling effect that flowed from their lips as they said them. He had wondered so desperately _why _they were so important, and it looked like that every time he made an attempt to ask, they only said things like, "We'll tell you when you're ready."

But then again, what the hell was that supposed to mean? Ed felt like smirking, but held it back hard. It was not the time for trivial, nearly joyous things like that. He knew for a fact his parents did not like his early budding smart mouth.

Eventually, he resigned to reply, not bothering to ask the words' importance today. He lost one of his best friends, and he missed her dearly. "Alright," he whispered shakily, suddenly remembering the old woman Granny Pinako really was. "I'll make sure to remember that."

"Good."

But today he took the words to heart. Indeed, it was an astonishing thing to keep moving forward. In fact, he felt the urge to get up and start running, secluded, and far away from here. Then maybe he would forget the past and just head straight for the future. Maybe if Ed just simply didn't remember his old friend's face anymore…

And then he remembered. It was something small and undefined, but he did recall that his recently passed not-blood-related family member had said a phrase like that. Pinako had laughed on a day somewhere in the past at a retort a slowly recovering patient of hers said. The young man had lost a limb, more specifically, his left leg, in a plowing accident.

"_I'm going to get outta here, ya old hag! You can't make me recover fer an eternity!"_

_She had merely laughed and shook her head, saying that he absolutely needed to stay at least two more days, as the surgery was only three days previous. _

"_Uh-uh Pinako! My crops need my muscle and Imma needin' my crops! You gave me a new leg, didn't ya? I have two legs! Im gonna use 'em!" _

_And then, Ed remembered that her ancient and seemingly bottomless eyes widened a little in shock. "Huh," _he heard her say in his mind_, "You sound a lot like Al's older brother."_

And if his memories didn't fail him, he could call to mind that soon after that boisterous comment; the aging woman had let the man go without so much as lifting a finger to stomp after him.

"And, Dad…?" he suddenly breathed, breaking the short silence.

His father glanced directly at him, and he could see that the gray-eyed man was trying to read him, as he had never looked so distant before. "Yes, Ed?" the adult said in an honestly curious reply.

"Did—Did your brother ever say things like that too?"

His sparkling silver eyes glistened in memory. There wasn't a day in his life that he forgot to remember his older beloved brother. At least one thing in each of his days reminded him, and a least one thing each day made him see all of the sacrifices that he had made for his sake. They had sacrificed, and gained, and sacrificed yet again, but in the end, he had only felt a loss.

If there was anyone that he wished he could bring back besides his own mother, it would be Edward.

"_I'm—I'm sorry, Al! I never meant for this to happen! Do you hate me?" _The desperate words of a young boy who first set eyes on the empty suit of armor that was his younger sibling hit the man with full force. He still wondered to this day how he could have enough energy at that moment, to shout something so powerfully even though he was still suffering painfully from severed limbs.

And then his memories flashed to a smirking brother who tapped the front of his armor with a fist. _"We're brothers, and we're all we've got,"_ he had said.

"_No matter what!"_ an older Edward said with a contagious determination setting in his golden irises as he pointed a metallic right finger at his younger brother,_" I'll get your body back Al, it's a promise! Don't you ever forget it!"_

The man smiled gently as he pulled back the words the other brother used to say to numerous people who seemed broken enough to stop moving toward life abruptly, even one that he became great friends with to this day, Rose and the people of Lior. _"You have two legs. You can get up and use them. Anyway, the only thing anyone can ever do is to keep moving forward."_

A flash and the scenes were suddenly red. A pitch dark silhouette scarred his memories, of a silvery suit of armor standing sideways in shock as a young, teenage boy blocked a piercing blow and took the hit instead, and an ominous presence laughing hysterically in the foreground, as the homunculus, Pride was still curled and tiny in a fetal position, held tight by Edward's red cloak, and an amused Father still pointing a fist in the direction of them. Blood spewed almost everywhere…

Then, the scene transformed yet again, showing a weak-looking, pale, blond, and golden eyed boy looking up at a face with half-lidded irises. _"Remember, Al,"_ the feeble youth murmured, _"You have two good legs. Don't forget about the past, but don't look back either."_

And unexpectedly he was back again, picking absentmindedly at a grassy hilltop on which he sat cross-legged upon. He was completely unaware of the tears that were spilling across his cheeks, like waterfalls on ragged paths towards untouched pools beneath a mountain. It was almost ironic, really. A tremendously magnificent thing to picture in one's mind, but to this man, it was entirely the opposite indeed.

"Dad?" the child near him spoke up in a hushed whisper.

Realizing the immediate situation, Alphonse Elric smiled sadly. "Yes," he said wearily, gazing up upon something that no one but him could see, "My brother did used to say things like that."

"Hm. He did? Maybe he was a great guy."

Alphonse only turned to look at his son with compassion set on his features. "Of course he was _more_ than great," lifting a hand to tussle the golden locks of hair on his son's head. "Your name is Edward Elric, right?"

The boy raised an eyebrow in question.

"Well, you're named after him," he said with a sigh. "And you want to know something else that he used to say?"

This time, Edward Elric didn't see any reason to object. Unexpectedly, he had a growing interest in his father's older brother. After all, Granny Pinako also appeared to have a respect for the man as well. "Ok, what else did he say?"

And his father had a far-away look in his eye again, as if seeing into something that only he could see in the distance. He removed the hand from his son's head and resumed its place on the grassy ground where he could contently pick at the dark green beneath him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, another reminiscing smile on his face.

"The last words he said to me were 'Don't forget about the past, but don't look back either.' "

At that very moment, Edward Elric changed his mind. He had a feeling that Granny Pinako wouldn't appreciate the gesture if he decided to push everything in the past out of his mind. It would be an insult to her memory, would it not? And it appeared like it would be an even graver insult to the first Edward Elric too. And, somehow, he began to take every related phrase that his parents said to him to heart as well. Maybe someday, they would tell him exactly the story of the older Elric he never met, and why his mother said that Winry would have married him if he hadn't died so young and so long ago.

Or maybe they would tell him why he constantly saw and heard his own name throughout the streets of Central, or why Fuhrer Mustang always seemed to compare the newer state alchemists to the prodigy, the Fullmetal Alchemist, who also was apparently the same brother as his father had mentioned so many times before. But of course, Alphonse Elric was the state alchemist, the Living Soul Alchemist now, and no one ever compared him to his brother, but only called out similarities and differences.

"I think I like your brother," Ed said with a shrug. "I like all the things he said too."

After all, Granny Pinako respected him, and that was a feat in and of itself.

_Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is alchemy's first law of Equivalent Exchange._


End file.
